Metal Gear: Biohazard
by Cuiasodo
Summary: Otacon finds a new Metal Gear prototype, one that can launch germ warfare weapons. But the company behind it has a few secrets.


Metal Gear: Bio-Hazard

Author's Note: To those of you who read the original Metal Gear: Bio-Hazard, welcome back! I hope this new, revised iteration will surpass the original. To those of you who were fans, again, welcome! I hope that you bear with me as I have decided to re-write this story rather than continue on with the way it is. And to the many of you who never read the original at all (which is not that surprising, seeing as how it wasn't exactly immensely popular) welcome!

But I bet you all are wondering the same thing: why? Why re-write the story? There is a simple answer: continuity. I blew the continuity of both series to hell in the last one. As a fan fiction writer and part time reader, there's nothing that bugs me more than when a fan fiction has a continuity error. After doing so research, I found out that my story clearly violated the timeline of both games; MG: BH takes place _after_ the official MGS2. According to RE4, Umbrella folded after 1998, and since Metal Gear Solid 2 takes place well after 1998, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense for Snake to infiltrate an Umbrella facility; according to PSM, MGS2 takes place in 2009, thus after RE4, thus Umbrella is pretty much totally decimated at this point. Also, in the original draft, none of the MGS characters seemed to know about the Spencer Estate, Raccoon City incident or…well any of it, let alone the T-Virus.

So, I have written the new draft, free (hopefully) of continuity errors and with just the same kick (hopefully!) as the original. Enjoy!

* * *

It was cold. Damn cold. Snake sighed, watching his breath make smoke in the wind, swirl and dissipate in the empty, smelly air. A rickety ride in the back of a cargo truck wasn't Snake's idea of a comfortable infiltration, but then again, maybe there was no such thing. The soldier strained his head to think about something other than the cold, take his mind off of his plight. He was clad in his usual combat jumpsuit with a few upgrades here and there in the way of body armor; there was now thin plating over his chest, wrists, elbows and knees made of a light, durable material. He supposed that he should be grateful as the suit kept him slightly warmer than normal clothes would. More often than not, "slightly" could mean the difference between life and death on a mission. But "slightly" meant jack in this cold!

_Put your mind somewhere else._

He focused, letting his eyes close as he thought back to the briefing section with Ottacon…

* * *

It was a cement room, sterile, blank, just the place you would expect a briefing. All of the walls were empty and undecorated accept the one at the head, where Ottacon was now standing, adjusting his glasses. That one was full of posted documents up and down the cement lengths, typed up with personnel information, patrol routes, financial exchange information, blueprints and more than a few photos of the infiltration site. Covering most of this was a whiteboard covered in messy blue ink that Ottacon had used to scribble out the insertion method and the map of the infiltration point.

"The Pharmaceutical company S owns a building up in Pennsylvania. Around this time of year, the climate will be cold."

"But that won't be much of a factor this time around. I'm going to be walking around_ inside_." Snake finished, sounding definite.

Ottacon gave a singular nod. "Obviously, we have reason to believe that the company is harboring a Metal Gear. This one is a newer model, most likely based off of the blueprints of both REX and RAY. It's a hybrid, and not just in that aspect…" he trailed off, fumbling with his glasses with his index finger. "The unit you're about to go after is designed to fire a special type of warhead. Rather than fire a simple bomb, this one is supposed to launch a germ warfare missile. Snake, this makes is possibly even more dangerous than a normal nuclear bomb as the disease could spread and cover a further radius than a warhead."

"What's inside of it?"

"We don't know what the disease is. All we know is that it's supposed to be lethal and maybe even cause mutations in certain…hosts."

It was clear by the way that Ottacon said the word "hosts" that he didn't want to keep down this path of conversation. Snake knew how Ottacon felt about innocent people being caught up in war. That was why they stuck together.

"What's the insertion method?" he questioned, steering the ex-scientist down another path.

"You'll get into the facility via a supply truck. A delivery of tissue samples is supposed to be made to the facility within the next week. You'll sneak into the truck when it picks up the samples from the docks. It's a two hour trip from there back to the facility."

A low hum escaped Snake's mouth mingling with the sound of exhalation. Ottacon almost didn't notice the noise, but he knew from the look on Snake's face, from his slightly wrinkled brow and down turned lips that brought out the wrinkles around his mouth, that he was about to ask something that was bugging him.

"Why exactly are we going after this facility?"

It was a good question. After the Manhattan incident, their sole purpose had been to locate the Patriots and the late Olga Gurlucavitch's child. The list that Snake had recovered had to have been a dummy or something else; all of the names on the list, names, supposedly, of the Patriots, were those of deceased people, to be exact, people who had been dead for a hundred years. But it was obvious that they were still around to some extent; the true reason behind the Manhattan incident was kept hidden from the public. No man, woman, or child in America, save Snake and the few others on that mission, or the world knew about Arsenal Gear even after it crashed into the capital building. The truth had been white-washed, some story about a suicide by a prototype assault craft created by an unknown terrorist cell serving as the cover-up. Metal Gears, although still a threat, had taken a back seat to the main attraction.

"I thought you'd ask that. We have reason to believe that S and The Patriots are linked. Contact has been made between the two entities and I don't just mean behind the scenes manipulation. Someone or several someones have been in direct contact with the Patriots. Most likely they've been given orders from them, ones that would assure that they had control over S. When you infiltrate into the building, you will be trying to destroy the Metal Gear there and trying to find as much information on the Patriot's contact, apprehending him if possible."

"Do we know who he is?"

"No clue."

There was that soft hum again with a bit of a gravely growl towards the end. "Then how can you be sure?"

"Snake, relax. Our lead is air-tight this time, I promise. This won't be like the tanker mission." He knew Snake was still hurting from that one. Sheer luck and fast reaction time on both Snake's and Ottacon's part had ensured that he had gotten out very much alive.

"Alright. So, what about weapons and equipment?"

* * *

Snake felt the dark wash out of his brain as he came back into himself. Somewhere inside a candle had been light, illuminating his mind and bringing him back to reality. The truck had stopped, the departing footsteps of the driver echoing slightly as they got further away. He got up and stretched, gagging a little at the smell of the back of the truck. Snake eyeballed the crates, the source of the stink. Tissue samples. Obviously, they weren't live. The soldier crouched back down, hopped over the edge of the truck and hit sold ground, circling around to the side of the truck away from the front doors for cover. He glanced at his watch. 0800 hours. Infiltration begins now… 


End file.
